She's Gonna Break Soon
by selenehekate
Summary: She's so sick of her life, of all of the stupid rules that surround her because of the war. How much longer can she last before she breaks?


_The song used throughout this piece is called "She's Gonna Break Soon", and it's by this awesome band called Less Than Jake that you should definitely check out. Enjoy!_

* * *

_She's Gonna Break Soon_

_"She's been thinking, wishing, she could hide_

_from the girls with the comments passing by"_

"What is the Mudblood wearing?" Daphne hissed to her and Millicent as they stepped into Hogsmeade early one summer evening. It was right before their seventh year, and Pansy couldn't help but be shocked that Hermione Granger would risk being in the wizarding world, given the politic climate, even though she appeared to have a guard with her. "Oh, _Merlin_ look at those shoes! They look like they came out of the 80's, they're so ancient."

"They're so Muggle," Millicent agreed. "So low class."

"What do you think Pansy?" Daphne asked, looking to the usual ringleader of the snark brigade. "Aren't they hideous?"

_Not really_, she wanted to say. _I actually rather like them. Black flats... they're classic. What's wrong with classic? And since when do shoes really matter?_

But her survival instincts were too strong. "They should be burned," she said with a dark laugh. "God, Granger," she said, raising her voice so it carried. The brunette Gryffindor raised her head wearily. "Did you lose a bet? Have to wear the Weasley hand-me-downs for a week?" Behind her, her cohorts chuckled merrily. "Or have your parents just stopped caring about their freak of a daughter?"

But Granger was used to their low-brow prejudice and rolled her eyes. "At least my parents know what my favorite subject is," she said, before she turned on her heel and walked off, Arthur Weasley taking her by the arm and quickly whisking her away.

Daphne was outraged by the apparent "gall" of the Gryffindor princess. "Stupid Mudblood bitch," she muttered. "Well, she'll get what's coming to her. Won't she, Pansy? The Dark Lord will make sure of it."

Why did she have to be that mean girl? That Pureblood girl who had to keep putting her "inferiors" in their places? Especially since she could care less about blood and the meaning behind it all. No, if she were in charge, she'd vilify the stupid people, not the Muggle-borns. The idiots like Crabbe and Goyle would be on the receiving end of her sarcasm.

Since the Dark Lord's return, Pansy had become extra vicious in her verbal blows; she knew the news would easily travel back to the evil wizard if she weren't excessively brutal. No matter how much she hated causing unnecessary confrontation, self-preservation was the most important thing to Pansy. "Yeah," she said softly. "The Mudblood is going down."

* * *

_"She'll be spending her whole weekend_

_faking laughs and faking smiles with her fake friends"_

Upon entering the establishment, the three girls quickly found Draco, Blaise, and Theo already sitting at a table in The Three Broomsticks. Blaise spotted them first and waved the girls over. "Oh, Merlin," Daphne groaned. "Draco brought my sister... I'm so sorry, Pansy."

She didn't care; she really didn't. As Pansy Parkinson watched Astoria squeal in Draco's lap, she couldn't help the apathy that washed over her. So what if her ex-boyfriend was still seeing the harlot who stole him away from her? It wasn't like she still had feelings for him. He was just a weak person, someone with no sense of real responsibility. He didn't interest her at all.

_I think I'd rather be facing down a hundred dementors. Without a wand. Naked,_ she thought to herself as she slowly approached the table. Instead, she said. "I can't believe he's such a prick."

"Astoria," Daphne snapped. "Come here! We need to talk."

"But-"

"Now!"

Pansy wanted to chuckle as she watched her supposed friend drag Astoria over to the corner of the room and begin to chastise her. If only Daphne knew how little she cared. _Actually_, she thought to herself. _It's better that she doesn't know. The only reason I'm still here, after all, is that I don't want to wind up murdered._

"Well, well," Blaise said, a small smile slipping onto his face. "Look at you, Pansy Parkinson. Still in control of the Slytherin females even though school's not in session. You have a gift."

"Oh, please. You can't call utter perfection a gift," she said with a coy smile. If she had to pick one person to hang out with for an entire day, it would be Blaise, without a doubt. She knew he wasn't a fan of the famed Slytherin narcism, nor did he enjoy the Dark Lord's idea of a new society. But he, like her, was trapped among a sea of people he could care less about. They were constantly wearing facades so strong, that sometimes it became hard to tell who they really were inside.

He gave her a wink. "Come on, Parkinson. Let's have us a dance."

* * *

_"It's the boys in bars on Friday night_

_that replace the emptiness inside"_

"How have you been?" he said as he grabbed ahold of her hands and began to shift her around the dance-floor. The Three Broomsticks had live performances and dancing every Friday night during the summers. "You seem quieter than usual."

"Well, that's not good," she muttered. "Thanks for pointing that out. I'll work on it."

"I'd rather you just be happy," Blaise said, his tone taking on an unusually serious note. "If you're not happy, you're just going to fade away."

"Now I _know_ you don't mean that literally. Unless Draco's come up with some new, daft scheme that you're not telling me about."

He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer to him. "You know what I mean, Parkinson. If the cost of living is to kill who you are, then you're better off dying."

"Says you," she murmured, pulling back to look into his eyes. "You're a hypocrite, and you know it."

"Perhaps I am," he said softly. He leaned in, then, until his lips were inches away from her own. "But after all that you and I have done together, after all we've seen of each other..." he drew his eyes over her body, a wicked grin sliding into place. "You know I've found a way to deal with this. You haven't. And it's changing you, Pansy, and I don't like it."

"You never call me Pansy," she said as she pulled back slightly. "We've been sleeping together for months, and you still never-"

He brought his lips down to her own, giving her a long kiss before he pulled away. "The only way you'll truly be happy, Parkinson, is if you remove yourself from the situation that's slowly killing you." He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Then he pulled back and walked off in the direction of the table, leaving her standing in the middle of the dance-floor, surprised by his words.

_It's eerie,_ she thought to herself. _It's so eerie how he always knows the right thing to say._

* * *

_"Promises you made back home_

_are crumpled like the goodbye notes"_

She left without a word to anyone, and within minutes she was back at her parents house. The building was dark; clearly no one would be home on a Friday night. Certainly not her Death Eater parents. Certainly not with the war going on.

Within seconds, she'd conjured up a suitcase and was quickly packing her most precious belongs. Clothing, jewelry, shoes... A couple of books, some sweaters, and the locket that Blaise had given her before they started sleeping together.

A sense of exhilaration crept over her, marred only by a strong sense of fear. She had _no_ idea what she was doing. Where was she going to go? Where was she going to live? How would she survive?

But in her heart, she knew that Blaise was right. If she stayed in her current situation, sooner or later she wouldn't even be able to recognize herself. She might just become the kind of person she desperately hated. So what if running away was a dangerous, stupid thing to do? She couldn't do this anymore.

_Besides,_ she thought with a dark smile. _If I get caught, all I have to do is say that Harry Potter threatened me and that I was hiding for my own safety. It's not like they don't already want him dead. They'd believe that_.

But could she just leave? Just pop off to France, or Germany, or wherever in the middle of the night without saying goodbye? Could she really just vanish from her family's lives? No, she had to do _something_.

A small tinge of guilt overtook her. She was defying everything her parents believed in by running off. She was laughing in the face of their rules, their beliefs; she couldn't just leave them a _note_. How ridiculous would that be?

* * *

_"With so many problems in her life it really comes as no surprise._

_She's going to break"_

Inspiration struck her and, after a brief pause, she conjured up a bouquet of white roses. With just a moment of hesitation, she placed the bouquet upon her bed, grabbed her bag, and shut off the light. _My parents probably won't even find them until tomorrow morning,_ she thought with a roll of her eyes. _Unobservant twits._

Who even knew if they'd understand what the roses meant? Maybe they'd just think that she had an admirer. Maybe they wouldn't care. Maybe they wouldn't realize she was gone for weeks, for the rest of the summer, even. It wasn't like she saw a lot of them, anyway. Granger may have been a Mudblood, but she was right about one thing: at least Granger's parents actually cared.

But Pansy needed to have those roses on her bed. She needed them there, like flowers on her grave, to mark the moment in time when she decided to stop destroying who she was - when she abandoned her Slytherin sense of self-preservation - in favor of just being able to live.

"Live," she muttered as she stood at the doorway of her old darkened bedroom. "What a concept." With a small smile, she turned on the spot. A loud _pop_ sounded as Pansy disappeared and finally broke free from all of the problems in her life.

* * *

_I adore Pansy and Blaise as a couple, so even though this was originally going to have absolutely no romance in it, I simply had to throw them in there. I hope you enjoyed it!_

_This was written for the Hogwarts Games Rhythmic Gymnastics, and this was also written for the Lyric Inspired Drabble Competition, the Pairing Diversity Boot Camp with the prompt "eerie", the Song Fic Boot Camp with the prompt "live", and the Favorite Era Boot Camp with the prompt "roses". Please review it and tell me what you think! I'd love some criticism. Thanks!_

_Cheers!_

_-Selene_


End file.
